


It Was Kind Of Magical

by kickassfu



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Soulmates, There is still magic, but different universe, kind of, used bookstore AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 05:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/pseuds/kickassfu
Summary: Eliot was tired and hungover, typical monday mood, for him; he wasn’t quite sure where he was coming from, just that it was past 8 am and Gods, he really needed to drop face first onto his soft, soft, bed. Being lost wasn’t a first, and as desorianting as that always was, magic always made shit like that so much easier.Taking care of his surroundings, so he wouldn’t look like a complete lunatic, he tutted the usual moves for the spell “take me home”; it was simple and banal, the magic just made his body know the way home, without even thinking of it.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Writerwithagoal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerwithagoal/gifts).



> Got this prompt and tried my best: Eliot stumbles into Quentin's used bookstore and meets someone he's been searching his whole life for.

Eliot was tired and hungover, typical monday mood, for him; he wasn’t quite sure where he was coming from, just that it was past 8 am and Gods, he really needed to drop face first onto his soft, soft, bed. Being lost wasn’t a first, and as desorianting as that always was, magic always made shit like that so much easier. 

 

Taking care of his surroundings, so he wouldn’t look like a complete lunatic, he tutted the usual moves for the spell “take me home”; it was simple and banal, the magic just made his body know the way home, without even thinking of it.

 

He went right and left, and forward and right, and he stopped keeping track. Not really paying attention, until he realized he was nowhere near his place, it was a cute street though. Lots of grandiose graffiti and art all over the walls, beautiful, small, cosy stores all around - it was kind of...magical, in a way. 

 

Even his headache was getting better, the air was somehow cleaner, nicer. So he just kept walking, forgetting he had even done a spell, but then he stopped in front of a used bookstore called,  _ ‘Minor Mendings’ _ . His heart yearned for something inside, and his body felt compelled to go in - which was hilarious, Eliot was not a reader. Maybe he’d buy Margo something, she’d love it and he’d get bonus points with his best friend. Win-win.

 

As soon as he went in, a sense of nostalgia and warmth seeped right into his very being,  _ weird _ . Eliot looked around the lovely and very bohemian store, which looked way bigger on the inside than the outside made it seem, and the moment he saw  _ him _ a chill went through his whole body.

 

The man was sitting down on one of the many ottoman chairs peppered throughout the place, reading a book. He looked completely immersed, and hadn’t even noticed Eliot had walked in; not a thing he was used to happening, everyone usually saw Eliot the moment he showed up. The store was completely empty, besides them two, it felt like... _ destiny _ . 

 

_ What a ridiculous thought. _

 

Clearing his throat, he wanted to wait for the other man to look up at him, but apparently he startled him so much he almost fell off the chair. Which might have been the single, most adorable thing he’d ever seen a grown man do. 

 

“You ok?”

 

When he finally looked up at Eliot, eyes sparkling and mouth wide open, his only response was, “Uh-huh.”

 

Eliot smiled, the man was too cute for his own good, “Right. That’s good.”

 

“Quentin. My name, I mean.” taking a deep breath and tucking his hair behind his ear, he stood up and tried again, “My name is Quentin.” 

 

“ _ I’m Eliot. _ ”

 

Quentin, was staring at Eliot, again, until he shook himself off, “Which I realize is not important, uh, do you need any help finding a book?”

 

“So, you work here?”

 

“Well, I own here, and also work...here.”

 

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

 

So, Eliot was flirting, right? The way he cocked his hip, and stared him down as if he could just eat him up, could not be a delusion Quentin was having. He definitely wasn’t used to being flirted by anyone that looked well, like  _ that _ , so he was feeling more flustered than usual. 

 

There was something behind those eyes that felt so familiar, like he had spent lifetime after lifetime looking at them, and falling in love every single time. 

 

_ Oh god. _

 

That was way too much.

 

“Book?” why speak in full sentences, when just one word could do the job just fine. Eliot was still looking at him as if he was magical - he was, just not in that way.

 

“Sure, my friend loves anything nerdy and fantasy like.”

 

“Oh, cool. I love those as well.”

 

“ _ Of course you do. _ ”

 

Eliot looked at him with such a knowing smile, as if he knew his darkest, deepest secrets, so obviously he changed topics, “Right, so you were looking for a present when you stumbled over my bookstore?”

 

“Nope, I was trying to go home, and somehow I just ended up here instead.”

 

“Even though you weren’t looking for any books?” Quentin asked, confused.

 

“Is it that weird?”

 

“People usually only find this place when they need books.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Oh because it’s spelled to do that?” Quentin was so focused on looking for just the right book, he didn’t even realize what he was saying until it was out of his mouth. 

 

“I mean, sometimes it feels like magic, because you know. Magic isn’t actually real.”

 

Eliot let him talk for a bit, enjoying his awful lying, all the while smiling, “Ok yeah, I know magic is real, don’t worry.”

 

“You could’ve, like, stopped me earlier.”

 

“I could have, but you’re just so damn cute.”

 

Swallowing dry, and blushing hard, Quentin decided to keep looking for the book instead of answering Eliot. He could feel his eyes drill holes into his back, and even though that would usually make him uncomfortable, Quentin felt warm - on the way to feeling very, very hot, except he was working so, not the best timing.

 

“ _ Found it. _ ” Quentin said, smiling and almost caressing the book, “It’s one of my favorites, and it’s not very well-known, so I bet your friend will love it.”

 

“Great, I’ll take it.”

 

“Just like that?”

 

“Yup, I trust you.” and he did, trust him; even if he wasn’t quite sure why he did, or how he got attached to someone else so damn quick.

 

They went over to the register so Eliot could pay, and Quentin remembered their conversation, “Wait, you were trying to go home and you ended up here instead, how?”

 

“Oh just a spell gone wrong probably.” when he saw Quentin waiting for more clarification, he continued, “Just a small ‘take me home’ spell. I usually get home without even realizing, but this time it took me here. It was a neat little surprise though, so I’m not mad.”

 

“That’s weird, this place hasn’t been open for long, so maybe it’s interference or something? Or maybe this is your home.”

 

Quentin’s laughter was like music to his ears, and yes that was so cliché but so what? It just made his chest tighten in the best way possible; Eliot just wanted more, more, more.

 

“Well, my body only felt like I arrived home when I saw you, so that actually means  _ you’re _ my home.”

 

“ _ Oh. _ ”

 

Yeah, _ oh  _ indeed, why the fuck did he say that? But...he didn’t want to leave, he just wanted to keep talking to him, to be right next to him. As he paid, his hand lingered on Quentin’s hand, and kind of a creepy move, except Quentin just let it happen. 

 

If he was one to believe in soulmates…

 

“Give me your number. We should go out.  _ I mean _ , we should go out for coffee.”

 

“We  _ should _ go out,” Eliot said, and then added jokingly, “for coffee, of course.”

 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

 

They exchanged numbers, and Eliot still managed to make him blush once or twice, especially when he kissed his hand and bowed theatrically. When he left the store, Quentin felt slightly more empty, and he couldn’t wait to see him again.

 

Magic certainly wasn’t perfect, and maybe it was the imperfection in it that made them meet, but either way Quentin was thankful. 

 

Eliot was already calling Margo, to tell her all about the cute guy he was already halfway in love with. Time was an illusion, and he was going to take this chance to spend it with Quentin.


	2. Coffee Date?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, sure, but he wasn’t expecting Eliot to show up like the fucking fairy godmother, and bibbidi-bobbidi-boo his ass. He must have looked like a deer in headlights, because Eliot laughed - and him looking like that should have been illegal. “What?”
> 
> “You’re just so adorable, all skittish and scared. I’m not going to eat you up, you know?” after thinking for a second he added, “Well, unless you ask me to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend asked for some more: Eliot shows up to Qs book shop and takes him out on a coffee date (sequel to finding home piece)
> 
> So I gave it a try!!

They had been flirting, pretty hard, because texting was way easier than real life conversation. And Quentin was smitten. Apparently, Eliot was not only super hot and beautiful, but also funny and smart and amazing and snarky and, well, Quentin felt nervous about their upcoming coffee date. Swallowing dry, he checked the clock, still an hour to go, great. That was fine. He was a grown man, and he could wait. Pacing around his bookstore, Quentin tried to find something to do, when he got a text from Eliot.

 

_‘Hey, thinking about you <3’ _

 

Oh, god, Quentin was going to die.

 

Right, he should reply.

 

_‘And I can’t stop thinking about finally being_

_with you again. Like, I love my bookstore,_

_but I would 100% close it right now lol’_

 

That was definitely too much. And he definitely wouldn’t have said that to his face, probably, but- maybe he was just really horny. His body literally yearned for Eliot’s touch, since that day his skin had been practically burning for Eliot. Which was weird, and wrong, and Quentin needed a cold shower right about now. But coffee first.

 

Hearing the door open and the bell ring, he sighed and schooled his face into something other than impatience. Quentin loved his job, and dick was not as important, he was going to behave and sell books. When he turned around, and saw Eliot standing there, in all his posh glory, and a smile on his face, all Quentin wanted to do was jump his bones. Which he shouldn’t, so he folded his arms to restrain himself from doing anything too...desperate, or weird.

 

“You’re early.”

 

“I am. But you can’t send a text like that, and expect me to wait.” Eliot said, looking him up and down, his face getting more pleased by the second.

 

Yes, sure, but he wasn’t expecting Eliot to show up like the fucking fairy godmother, and bibbidi-bobbidi-boo his ass. He must have looked like a deer in headlights, because Eliot laughed - and him looking like that should have been illegal. “What?”

 

“You’re just so adorable, all skittish and scared. I’m not going to eat you up, you know?” after thinking for a second he added, “Well, unless you ask me to.”

 

That certainly made a good image in Quentin’s brain, and as much as he was blushing, he also very much wanted to take him up on it. And by the intense look Eliot was giving him, he knew it too.

 

“We both couldn’t wait to meet up, so I came. Now all you need to do is close the bookstore, and we’ll go drink some coffee.”

 

They were still keeping their distance, both of them, as if they were scared getting too close would make the small sparks burst into an explosion; into something they weren’t quite ready yet. It was certainly inexplicable, how much they could feel for one another so quickly.

 

Quentin remembered the joke Eliot had made, about him being his home, and how it somehow it rang true. Right, as if soulmates were a thing. Quentin had read books, upon books, about all things magical, and nothing about that particular subject had ever appeared. He had also read plenty of fantasy and fairytales, and yes in those, soulmates were sometimes a thing. Romantic for sure, but fiction nonetheless. So why did he feel like that about him? And, did Eliot feel the same?

 

“Quentin?” Eliot asked, looking somewhat worried.

 

Talking, yeah, he should definitely be talking, “Yeah, sure. I can close it down early for once, it’s fine.”

 

“Don’t close it on my account. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you have to.”

 

Quentin could tell the exact moment Eliot’s walls were built back up, as he literally took a step back away from him. _Fuck_ . “No, I- I meant. I’m sorry, you make my brain all fucky? Which sounds bad. What I’m trying to say, is that I have trouble thinking when you’re around. Like, I really just want to _be with you_. On a date. I just didn’t expect you to feel the same about me, and to actually show up early?”

 

Finally making up his mind, Quentin let the tension out of his body and walked up towards Eliot, close enough to touch he wondered if he should kiss him or not. They hadn’t known each other for long, that was their second meeting, they hadn’t even gone on their date yet, but he really wanted to. Eliot was smiling now, more open after Quentin’s little declaration.

 

“Hey.” Quentin started, entranced by Eliot’s whole being.

 

“Hey.”

 

“I, hm…” before he could think on what he should say, Quentin just went for it, and kissed Eliot. Quick and soft, but he did it. And Eliot was definitely not complaining, seeing as he went right back in, grabbing his neck, and kissing him more fully, deeply. Tender wasn’t enough to even begin explaining Eliot’s touching, his lips, his hands, his everything.

 

It felt good. That yearning that had been plaguing him was finally sated, his nerves calming down, his skin that once burned from desire, now burned from their heat.

 

Eventually, coming up for air, Quentin mumbled, “Coffee. We- coffee.”

 

His brain had short-circuited, and Quentin couldn’t bring himself to speak more than a few words. He was still grabbing onto Eliot’s collar, as if it was his anchor to their own little world, their foreheads touching.

 

“Hm, right. Coffee. My place, or yours?” Eliot said, almost shining, biting on his lip.

 

Quentin wanted to scream _yes, yes, yes, yes. Your place. Now._ But he had a track record of fucking too fast and everything coming crashing down around him, so taking it slow _-ish_ for the moment, seemed appropriate.

 

“Starbucks?”

 

Eliot smiled and nodded, seemingly not upset at all, “Sounds perfect.”

 

It couldn’t be love, not so soon, so quick. But if talked like a duck, and walked like a duck, it couldn’t be a fucking horse, now could it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also kickassfu on tumblr~~

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also kickassfu on tumblr~~


End file.
